Thursday, May 20, 2010

Sometimes When I Write I'm Afraid I'll Give You All Blog-Herpes.

I know you think that every day is like a thought revolution for me, and I spend all my time thinking outside any number of 3-dimensional vessels meant for holding things, and that I break so many paradigms that the owner of the paradigm store told me to "Get the Fuck OUT!" and now he's lost my business forever because the customer is always right even if he says "That thing on your face is probably herpes." even though he knows it's probably just a mole. Eff you, Paradigm Store Man!

Well you are totally right. Every day my brain is like Braveheart to modern society's Longshanks and while I don't always cry "Freeeeedommm!!" and do defiant ass-spanks (metaphorically speaking) I do come up with great ideas for improving my life.

For example, yesterday I was at my Mom's house, and that old dumpy whore was going on and on and on about something. I don't had to do with cancer and her will, but I wasn't listening because instead I was trying to think up a "safe word" I could use to let people know I wasn't listening any more. I tried it out on Mom with mixed results:

Mom:...and then after they restart my heart (*sob*) they have to check for (*sniff*)...
Me: Applesauce.
Mom:...cardio... Did you...Did you just say "applesauce"?
Me: I did.
Mom: Do you WANT some applesauce?
Me: I don't know. Do you have any?
Mom: I...I...I don't know...maybe. Why did you interrupt me? I'm trying to bare my soul here.
Me: I KNOW. Sheesh, Ma! I was trying to think up a safe word to tell you I wasn't listening anymore.
Mom: Safe word?
Me: Yeah. You know. Like all the sexy ladies who do strangle sex have. Excuse me...I meant "make strangle love". I wanted to tell you to stop talking without hurting your feelings.
Mom: That maybe didn't work out so well.
Me: Maybe. But we DID stop talking about you. So it worked on one level.
Mom: What level is that?
Me: The one where we talk about me instead.
Mom: Oh.

So as you can see, everything worked out in the end and now I'm going to try and use the same technique on my court-appointed therapist because when she gets on a roll about how you aren't allowed to just take your pants off in McDonald's and jump up on the table and start peeing in a wide circle while scream-singing "Hungry Like The Wolf", she really doesn't like to stop talking and it's always the same "Blah-blah-blah mandatory sentence....blah,blah...away for the rest of your life."

HAHAHAHA! Okay, Lady! Settle down! I get it. No need to get all uncool. And then I usually flip up my collar like The Fonz and go "aaayyyyyy!" with thumbs up, but then I remember this leopard-print Snuggie© doesn't even HAVE a collar so I feel foolish. And then I shout "Applesauce!" and run out of the room making an obscene finger-in-pretend-vagina gesture to the receptionist as I go. It's good to have a safe word is my point.


Moooooog35 said...

That explains why your mom keeps yelling 'applesauce' at me.

Glad someone explained it. Jeez.

Steam Me Up, Kid said...

Hey mister. You break the paradigm, you bought it. *taps sign*

Hey mister. Also, no shirt, no shoes, no applesauce. *taps other sign*


Sarah P said...

They have a name for places where you can't whiz freely and artfully in restaurants. That name is Nazi Germany.

Spot said...

OMFG!! Now I know why Sean looks at me blankly and shouts "Space Ships" every so often. Or every time I talk. Safe words. That explains so very much.


Megs said...

I think I am going to have to incorporate literal defiant ass-spanks into my daily life.

How could I not?

Vic said...

I think Duran Duran used to incorporate that circle pee routine in their live shows, back in the '80s.

Those were good days.

Jules said...

What is it with herpes this week? You're the 2nd person to "mention" it to me.

I need a gyno appt.

FabuLeslie said...

I don't wanna burst your bubble, but your therapist is right. If you take your pants off at McDonalds, you're supposed to jump up on the *counter* and start peeing everywhere, and scream-singing *Relax*. Geez, man. You're a mess.

And thank you for correcting your "strangle sex" misstep. We definitely prefer "make strangle love." I very much appreciate how respectful your are of women. That's rare these days, you know.